Is She From Heaven or From Hell?
by PissyNovelist
Summary: Marie is a master thief years in the making. But all of her training and practice has led her into a life of boredom and no thief wants that. So when one challenge known as Inspector Javert comes along, hellbent on putting her behind bars, she's ready and willing to let this fly as long as she can. However, the stars have something much different written for the pair.
1. Passing Ships

**In my life, my mother and grandmother were perfect enough to raise me on Les Miserables. Since I was one, every car ride, the soundtrack played. I was raised on the 10****th**** anniversary show and Philip Quast in that very… perfectly tailored uniform was my very first crush. I saw it on stage and I just love it. So, I know this concept is overdone. But I need to write this, guys. It will physically hurt me not to. D: I hope you like it anyway.**

**I'm about to fuck up some story lines, make shit work. But this is just for silly fun with a plot.**

I walk the cobblestone streets, my black boots clicking softly against the ground rhythmically. My eyes scan the space before me, looking for a good candidate. The streets are riddled with the poor, sick, and hungry. It makes me job much harder in this poverty. I spot a man, in a custom purple suit coat with tails with matching purple pants. His presence is so flamboyant, it hurts my insides. His top hat, navy blue, looks like it's about to topple off his head, he moves so quickly and violently.

_"Well Monsieur… you look more than wealthy." _I smile to myself softly, making my way with a confident stride towards him. As I walk over, I see a stack of files in his hands. My luck seemed to be turning up today, and using the oldest trick in the book, I did what I do best. I bumped into his side, collapsing to the ground, acting weak and hurt.

"Oh… oh my apologies, Monsieur! I was in such a rush to get home to cook for my sister's children… I did not see you there!" I raise my voice a few octaves, hands slapping against my chest in worry. I pull myself to me knees as fast as possible, pulling files into my arms and neatly organizing all the corners to line up with one another.

"Oh no need to apologize Mademoiselle! Accidents far worse than this could have happened. At least it is not raining." His moustached smile greets me as I hand him the stack of files within my arms. He stands tall, offering a hand to assist me to my feet. I take it graciously and allow him to kiss my hand before going in the direction I was heading. My stride is more confident than before, more like a skip, as I make my way to my first rendezvous before home.

I find my empty ally way, crouching behind trash bins, digging through the fabric of my corset and bosom. I pull out my winning of the day, two pocket watches and ten loose francs. I know a man who would buy the watches and all that would be enough to help me eat for a week. But I know, deep in my heart as I stuff my winning back into my tight corset, in the next few weeks I'll need to do a big job in order to keep myself tied over.

I stand from my position, ready to make my way home.

"Well, wench…" I sneer at the silhouette in front of me, unable to recognize the tone.

"Well, you aren't Monsieur Judeau. He's only caught glimpses of my twice before. He isn't smart enough to find a way closer." I happily sing, my voice as chipper as can be.

"No, I am not. I have just been assigned to this street and you're my first catch of the day, gutter rat." I let myself walk forward to, seeing the overbearing silhouette stature in the walkway of the ally turn into a man. His hair, deep chestnut in a slick ponytail, and sideburns that could warm an orphanage of children gave him a certain character. His uniform fit him well, near perfect, as he stood feet apart and cane gripped between both hands ready to beat me if he needed to.

"Well Monsieur…" I roll my hands in the air, encouraging him to finish for me.

"It is not Monsieur. Inspector Javert." His lips formed a deep line, thick eyebrows furrowing into the center of his face. I make an 'o' with my mouth, giving a nod. I saw his hands wring around his cane, knuckles turning as white as the stars and eyes squinting until wrinkles formed around the grey pools of hatred and law.

"Well Inspector Javert, is my crime so heinous that I am fit to be considered a gutter rat?"

"You talk much for a thief, rat."

"Oh?" I purse my lips, my whore red lipstick not doing its job against this man. I use my arms to push my breasts together, batting my eyelashes. My act seemed to make more lines appear his face. I let me arms fall, my act of showing my assets obviously not working. I shrug, uncaringly, implying a silent question of what to do.

"You shall give me those stolen possession, rat, or I shall arrest you and take you to jail to work in a chain gang where men will do far worse things to you for that slut act than anyone on this street." His voice bellows and bounces off the walls of the narrow ally. I shake my head and smile at him once more.

"I know you, Javert-"

"Inspector." His voice is sharp, cutting me off like a knife. I throw my hands up in surrender to him, nodding in agreement.

"Yes, sir. Inspector Javert, I know you and I know you would never let me go. So, looks like I'm going to keep my daily earning and have to run."

"Nowhere to run, little rat." Now I see a smirk dance upon his lips. He lifts his hands, referring to the space around me. He knows I can't run past him, nor jump over his towering stance and I know he feels some sort of fulfillment knowing he will shackle and chain another person. I let my own expression tell, turning to my left. With a running start, I use momentum and the window ledges to pull myself up five stories high. Javert's voice bellowed behind me in rage, like petulant child without candy. I looked from the roof, seeing throw a physical tauntrum.

"Au Revior, Monsieur Javert!" I call down, blowing a kiss, and running to my home.

**I know. She doesn't really fit in the time period. But after making her character sheet, I know she's supposed to be that way. There is a reason! Keep reading to find out! ;D**

**xoxoPN**


	2. I Will Never Rest

**I'm glad people enjoy Quast as much as myself. I'm stuck in a sea of Crowe fans over here… uhg.**

**Despite being Canadian, my French sucks. So forgive me D: I'm working off of what I know.**

In hindsight, the dress was a bad idea. As I ran over the buildings, I tucked my dress into my underwear so I could move my legs freely. I jumped over the small gaps in the buildings, boots thankfully saving my ankles from breaking. The buildings start to descend, eventually hitting one story high. I halt, climbing over and hanging off the edge and jumping to the dirt. I roll as I hit the ground, taking a moment to lie there and breathe. I finally pull myself to my feet, white dress covered in dirt and grime of the day.

My chest feels so constricted from the pressure, I strain to keep my breath quiet as I peer around the corner. No signs that the ponytail managed to trace my steps, so I leisurely walk to my home. I cough here and there, finding my way to small home in the unnoticeable back ways of the city. A simple one story, three roomed home just enough for me and my friend. I opened the door, still huffing away, and finally get kick my boots off.

"Gerard, have you finished my suit?" I ask softly through harsh breaths, trying to dust my dress off.

"I'm almost done Marie. I need you to wear it so I can tailor it." My friend with short black hair turns to me with a thin smile, holding up a tight black suit of material the citizens of this town have never seen before. I grab it, holding it up to my body.

"I can't believe you made this. It's stronger than knight chainmail but light and silent. I swear, you're a genius." I pat his shoulder, taking the suit and rubbing the material in my hands. I rub it against my cheek for a moment, marveling at the advancement of technology, finally pulling at my dress to leave it on the ground. As I dress, I start to laugh.

"Hey, you know Inspector Javert?" I laugh harder as I speak of his name, almost falling over while trying to put my feet in the suit.

"Him? I've heard of him through the vines. Crazy they call him." Gerard laughed, ready with a needle and thread.

"Yeah. The first man to get a full body glimpse of me since I started this line of work. He cornered me in the ally off Devonte and Hue Lo'. He threw a temper when I escaped by climbing." I hear Gerard's insistent chuckling stop. I turn the suit, tight yet comfortable against my skin. I smile for the suits means, but he waits a moment before approaching me with an expression of disgust.

"You got caught by the worst Inspector, Marie. You can't let him arrest you."

"Oh, Monsieur Gerard," I dramatically bring the back of my hand up to my forehead ", help! Ou secour! Aidez-moi! Je suis prisonnier de l'inspecteur Javert! Pfft, worse things could happen than being his prisoner. I can escape whatever he has in store for me before two shakes of his cane." I laugh, felling Gerard tightening any loose parts of my new armor, making sure it can't catch on anything.

"You can't let him arrest you. He will give you a year for Thievery and then tack on seven years more for other things here and there. Don't even be in the same quarter as him."

"I don't know Gerard… he may be the challenge, the thrill I've been seeking. When I started out, I feared men like him. But I was taught me these tricks, learned my own tips here and there, I'm nineteen years in the making of a master thief. I need people like this to keep my reflexes sharp and skills intact."

"A challenge? You didn't continue to thieve after your mother died because you wanted a challenge. You needed to live." I scowl, Gerard knows I hate it when he brings up my mother. The rest of the tailoring goes in silence, letting the feeling of the fabric contorting to my body relax me. I feel his hands rub up and down my arms and legs, humming with self-content.

"Finished?" I ask and he nodded. I went over to our broken mirror, looking at my armor full of buckles that didn't jingle and deep pockets. I struck a few poses, jumping up and down and doing a hand stand to make sure it was rip resistant. I sigh, dreamily. This suit with my boots ensured to never creak any floor, I am an unstoppable force of the night.

"You worked on those arrows at all?" I look to Gerard before going back to my reflection. I pull at the buckles and run my fingers over the thigh holster for a blade. I turn, looking at the straps for my bow, content with all I see.

"I did. I found a way to make the water encase the arrow head. Upon impact, the pocket will burst, releasing the water. Just enough to douse a torch per arrow of course. But this is innovative." He picks up one of the arrows in question, a pocket of water encased in thin plastic around the sharp arrow head.

"And when it's dark, I can go back and get the arrow. This is perfect. We're almost ready for the big hit that'll tie us over through the winter." I smile a grin that reaches from ear to ear. I put the arrow down and take off my new armor, putting it on the makeshift mannequin we have.

"I'll make more arrows tonight and let you put the water pockets on. Are you going off to work, Gerard?" I look over my shoulder while I pull my dress back on. He sighs affirmatively, grabbing his cook uniform and standing in the doorway.

"I'll bring food home. Get those pocket watches to Felton. Au Revior meilleur ami!"

"Au Revior my friend." I saw him off, turning to my kitchen table where the papers of the week sit. I take my seat, crossing my legs and divulging into the black and white. I look for articles on one Inspector Javert. To my luck, there's piece after piece of his endeavours through this city. One, particularily interesting, caught my eye.

_Death of Mayor, Now Known as Thief Jean VaLjean_

_His death was claimed today, by his daughter Cosette, how said he died peacefully in his sleep surrounded by ones he loved. "This man had a rough time," Cosette spoke ", a man chased after him for stealing a loaf of bread. But he became a good person, a loving person who cared more for everyone else than himself."_

_Another voice spoke to us about VaLjean's death. Inspector Javert, the leading investigator of VaLjean's case, spoke out._

"_My only regret is never catching him… for all these years. He was an adversary worthy of my intelligence. But scum, none the less."_

I put the paper down in shock, holding my head in my hands. If this man is willing to follow someone who stole a loaf of bread for years, who knew how long he would chase me? But then again… this is what I want. This is what I need, a challenger worthy of my skill. I need to prove to myself that I am the master thief my mother told me I would be.

I let myself laugh. This is far too perfect for me to even begin. I have possibly just started another wave of problems for this young Inspector. I stand, my grin making my face ache. I look out the window, to the distant lights of the street and I know he's out there… looking for me.

"I swear to you, Inspector, until the day you die, I will forever remain just a mere breath out of your grasp."

**Slow chapter, nothing too good. But I'm setting up a good story line… I think :3 I already love writing Marie a lot. I may keep this up for awhile.**

**xoxoPN**


	3. Choices

**Am I updating too fast for you? I just can't help it. I have a hundred ideas for this story and I already have ideas for a sequence of fanfictions to create a series. Oh god what have I done? D: Nah, Ima keep writing anyway.**

I walk the streets, earning looks of horror from the citizens around me due to my new short dress with my boots. The hundreds of eyes, I shrug them off, knowing I can outrun anyone in this new cropped look… even Inspector Javert. Hell, everyone should be happy I'm wearing a corset. I don't let them phase me, walking in and out of the market with speed, having bought my food. The market has always been a place for pickpocketing, not stolen food… too much risk.

I can't help but notice the crowd of today, weaving through pockets of people chattering about this and that. Mostly about the death of the Mayor and with every broken conversation about him I walk past, I'm reminded that I lost my plan for the big hit. The Mayor was my target, my goal. I could have retired after robbing him. But now knowing he was_ the_ Jean VaLjean, a thief with more noble reasons than myself, I cannot go into his house and take any remaining possessions left behind by family. No… no I need a new big fish in this town. Before I make a mental list, I hear a group of sailors call me disgusting while pointing at my legs. I look down to my pale flesh, seeing nothing wrong with a little exposure.

'_Why don't more women wear things like this? It isn't too cold yet. It's nice'. _I mesmerised myself, watching the fabric ripple and sway around my knees, how the muscles in my legs flexed with every step, the motions my feet make with contact to the ground. Little tiny things I never noticed before with the long constricting dresses of my time. But my reverie is cut off by a large wall I make impact with. I fall straight onto my behind, thankfully my baskets remain unopened and my goodies safe.

"Well, gutter rat, out to steal more I see." I look up and see Javert's metal gaze, with a gloved hand extended to me. To my shock, I actually took it, bouncing up on my feet and nodding to him in silent thanks.

"Moi, Monsieur? Non… no, not me. I bought these things with letters of proof of purchase to show." I watch his large eyebrows rise, stance widening, and he blinked at me with a mocking smirk. He was expecting the proof. I put my baskets at my feet, digging into my corset, and form beside my left breast I pulled the papers and handed them to him. His lips are tight and continue to get tighter as he reads.

"This checks out."

"Obviously." I snatch the papers back, shoving them where I kept them before. I turned, but before my boots could even click against the ground, a firm hand placed itself on my shoulders.

"Ah, ah. Little rat. It is getting rather late out. Wouldn't want you to… get hurt," the apathy in his voice makes me want to vomit all over his shiny shoes ", or perhaps hurt another. Maybe I should escort you home." In the minute and a half I've collectively spoke with Javert and I can already tell her lacks a certain finesse. His intentions were not hidden… perhaps they weren't meant to be.

"I'm sorry, Inspector, but you must think I'm stupid." I laugh, nearly doubling over in the street. I shook my head, waving a hand in his face. I keep laughing, starting my way home, yet in his stride his legs managed to match mine with seconds of walking. He stayed silent, even as I forced my giggles back into my throat. I realized the problem known as this Inspector would not go away so easily.

"I'm guessing you're going to follow me around?" I tilt my head gently, watching his expression remain the same. I give him the privilege to stare at me a few second more, before snapping in his face.

"Indeed, rat." He smacked my hand down, lips tightening.

"If you insist on following me, Let us set rules. Any name other than rat would be nice. Slut. I like slut, slut isn't a bad word to me. So call me slut or whore." I shrug, walking forward to Gerard's workplace. I'm already cooking up a plan to ditch him in the gutter. His strides match mine, cane intimidatingly smacking against the ground with each step.

"Slut is a word unbecoming of what you are." Javert does not even look in my direction as he speaks, so sure of himself and his statement. While we've hit Gerard's workplace, I knew I wouldn't need him. Javert gave me all the material I need.

"How do you know, Inspector? I know intercourse isn't just for reproduction… it can be pleasurable and very fun. I'm a very… naughty girl, as they put it. In fact, those handcuffs…" I chuckle, seeing the discomfort in the Inspector's often stoic face.

"Enough." His voice nearly cracks, but I let my smirk dance.

"Inspector, I think you haven't had enough quite yet. In fact… I have an iron headboard made by the best blacksmith in town. You could shackle me and punish me for my crimes you lack evidence of. A… spanking? I have a whip." I hop in front of him, puffing my chest out to him.

"All this without pay. You are lower than a common whore." He sneers, making me giggle harder.

"Oh Monsieur, you're hitting all the right buttons. Parlez-moi… blasphémer moi L'inspecteur Javert. Talk dirty to me." I poked him in the chest. He takes a step back, face full of reactions. His upper lip curls at my mere existence, a big vein popping out of his forehead. Yet his eyes seem to betray his lips and veiny forehead… a twinkle of _something_ I swear I see. Interest? More disgust? Thinking of a way to get me to embrace Jesus?

"I've had enough of that for today Slut," I gasp pleasurably at the new name given to me ", but know you're my new… interest. You won't get away with anything more. I'm always watching." His stature grows even higher in front of me, the wide span of his shoulders blocking the sun's view from my eyes.

"Always watching? I'll remember that tonight." I wink at him, pulling my already knee-high dress up with a seductive finger walk and flick of the tongue. He immediately turns from me, cloak waving majestically behind him as he storms off. I laugh to myself, making my way back to my home with a watchful eye over my shoulder for Javert. The last thing I need is for him to get the upper hand by knowing where I live.

I stretch as I enter my home, baskets fitting on my counter while I put the contents away. I chuckle to myself, thinking of my meeting with the strange Inspector today. All the passers by watching me… watching him. It was as if no one ever really saw him with girl before… I suddenly feel compelled to know a little more of my challenger. After all, he probably has a cream coloured file of my information by now, sitting on his desk above all the paperwork.

"_What_ were you _thinking_?" An outraged Gerard bust into the door, tossing his coat onto the floor before coming towards me. His fingers dig into my wrist, nails causing crescent shaped wounds into my veins. I feel the bruises already forming. I reel back before any more damage can be done, kicking him in the knee, then turning to kick him in the chest. He collapses to the floor and I put my booted foot on his stomach.

"The hell is wrong with you? You don't own me, I'm not property. I'm your friend." With every sentence screamed at him, I increase the pressure of my foot, causing him to wince in pain and push at my foot..

"Firstly, this dress. Since when is it okay for you to show ankles, let alone knees?" His face begins to turn red, breath becoming short and thin.

"I can run faster in this dress in case someone tried to run after me! You must be stupid to think I'd wear it for any other goddamned reason!" I move my foot, dragging Gerard to his feet. I grab his shirt, throw him up against the wall, and hold him there a few inches above ground while he struggles to speak.

"And everyone, I mean _everyone_, saw that little stunt you pulled with Inspector Javert outside the shop. A pair of whores came in and said they would never stoop to your level. What does that say? They said something about handcuffs, and your iron bedposts… and insinuations not becoming of a lady…" Gerard begins to sputter, hands digging into his hair. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, putting my hands on his shoulders.

"Gerard… you know me. Insinuations not becoming of a lady? I've never been a lady. Just because I don't have sex for money doesn't mean I'm not a slut, you know. It is what I am, what I enjoy. Second, he was vowing to follow me, probably trying to scout out our little safe haven here. I had to be drastic and it worked. So you should be thanking me for using my abilities to shock prostitutes to get him off my back."

"You're not attracted to him then?" He visibly calmed down as I shook my head negatively.

"Of course not. His eyebrows, his hair. He's a pig, a cop. He's garbage to me. My new challenge, but garbage." I shake my head and make dramatic arm movements, as if this should have been obvious to him. He nodded, breathing regulating slowly but surely.

"Don't get involved with him at all. Avoid him, Marie. He's so dangerous." Gerard hates this man with a blind passion, much like Javert's disdain for me. I wipe the blood droplets escaping the corner of his mouth from our fight, giving him a gentle hug.

"He's a kitten, if the softness of his mutton chops tell anything. He's my challenge… and speaking of challenge." I give him a sly look, walking over to the suited mannequin.

"No." Gerard simply put, giving me a blue eyed stare. I laugh because he knows he has no influence over me and what I do in this suit, let alone at all.

"Why not? With the Mayor dead… he is probably the wealthiest person living in this town. Stealing from an Inspector and succeeding? Getting away with it? Can you imagine the prestige, the fame? We'd be wealthy for years until I'd have to steal again?" I run to him, twirling him around. His face lacks luster and I stop moving, pouting around.

"I'm doing it, whether you like it or not. I'm going to rob Javert dry."

**Chapter 4 probably coming tomorrow**

**xoxoPN**


	4. Bleeding Stake Out

**I'm bumping this story from T to M. Like, I'm going to insinuate it happened anyway and I do not get enough chances in my everyday life to write a little erotica. Like, Javert is the perfect man to write into smut. Especially Philip Quast's Javert… oh god, I'm drooling on my keyboard. It will be so awesome, I promise.**

**Yo, drop a review! Let me know you still like this! :)**

Wearing my full suit for the first time, I feel unstoppable. My boots as silent as a church mouse, my armor will never rip or hinder, and a hood with a mask to cover my lower face if I need to avoid identification. Not to mention, it's as black as the night can get. I'll blend in with the skies and wet pavement, people will feel me there, the uneasiness but never see me. As I finish tugging on my fingerless gloves, Gerard walks in, exhausted as all hell with a huge yawn.

"Hard day at work?" I turn, tying my hair in a high bun with a black ribbon.

"Inspector Javert came in. Sources say you hang around there a lot, you know." His voice was laced with distraught feelings and worry. I shake my hand in the air, a large hilarious sigh jumping between my lips.

"Wow, he's really clingy. Bless his wife's soul." I sneer, sliding my hands down my suit. Gerard comes up behind me, tightening the straps on my back.

"You know, he has no wife. Rumour has it he has never even had a girlfriend… no sexual relations either." Gerard spoke casually, his gentle fingers gliding across each strap and buckle. I look back at him, shock evident in my face.

"I figured anyone of status could get a wife off of an innkeepers family. He looks like a children man… then again maybe he's not. But I'll figure it out tonight!" I jump up and down sporadically, pumping myself for my first stalk job in a year or two. With my new suit, it was surely to go off without a hitch. In one of my many pockets, is some parchment and charcoal, to take notes on his patterns, his lock system; all things that will lead to a quick and undetectable heist of the ages.

"I think this is a bad idea, Marie. He's started a full throttle campaign for finding you… that was clear when he came in today. A man like him gets obsessed. Please don't go out there." Gerard is at the end of his wits, I can tell. But I shrug at him; he knows I have to do this.

"Marie Bertrand, please." He knew he can pull at my heartstrings using my full name with a little French flair.

"Gerard, bon ami, I need him and I need this. I'm going. Rest up, you work thirteen full hours tomorrow. I will drop off fruit for you half way through, fresh fruit. I'll steal some tonight." I kiss the top of his head, earning a kind smile.

"Stay safe, if anything, my friend."

"I always do." I wave, shutting the door behind my gently. I walk down the long ally way to the end of the street, only needing to wait for a second before little Gavroche runs towards me full tilt.

"Marie, I found Inspector Javert's address!" He's jumping up and down, spinning a few times before handing me the piece of paper clutched in his hand.

"Good work, Gavroche! Here, like I promised," I grab the bag from my hip, containing a loaf of bread and various fruit ", and you know if you need a place to stay, we have a big soft chair that's just your size." I fix the position of hat while he smiles at me, thanks me graciously but something about staying at the café with the men. I give him a final smile, walking off in the direction of my new challenge. I look at the address once more, seeing he lived in the rich part of town.

I start to pick up speed, as if the ground is moving and I'm staying still, until my arms are pumping full swing. I see my target's building off in the distance, but I make a sharp left, jumping up onto the dumpster and hanging onto the ledge of the roof of a local bar. I pull myself up with a seamless flick of the arms and legs, and before I know it, I'm bolting across rooftops and jumping over long gaps. I run across the residential, able to smell the superiority.

I slow my run to a gentle walk, standing on the ledge of the final building before the Inspector's home. It looks big, spacious, in the rich neighbourhood, and able to hold a lot of little knick knacks. I smirk to myself, making the final drop and hitting the roof with a roll. I choose the back window, facing the water, to enter. I slide down the wall, crouching on the thin ledge and open the window one side at a time. No locks on the window, so I'm already in good luck.

As I crouch on the hardwood floors, I notice it's very dark and silent. Too dark to have inhabitants and a deafening silence that even a thief can't reconcile with. I stand, walking my way around the room. Books upon books line the walls, I find myself overcome with emotion. I love to read, I love to learn. These books are all different and organized in alphabetical order. I peal myself away from the shrine of literature to his desk. No locks, no safe under it. This room, while plentiful in treasures to me, holds no value to anyone else. I leave the room, slowly walking to listen for the faint echoes of snoring or breathing, but still the silence rings violently in my ears.

As I lurk around upstairs, I find nothing of interest. I skulk into the final room; Javert's bedroom.

"If I can't find loot, maybe I'll find something to embarrass him and blackmail him with later." I whisper with a smile, pushing the door open. The large bed was empty, one side slightly wrinkled and the other not at all, as if it hadn't been touched since it was purchased. His comforter was black, which came as a shock to me. But I figure to each his own, starting to go through his room for anything of wealth. I look under the bed, in his drawers, his closet which is a basic array of uniforms one after the other and still nothing. I'm starting to think this guy isn't as good to rob as I thought. There's a room attached to his bedroom, a bathroom with indoor plumbing. It took everything for me not to vomit. The elite get the best and what gets better than indoor plumbing and a cast iron tub to bath in? I avoid looking at any toiletries and leave.

I sway my hips as I go downstairs, but nothing of interest yet. I walk to the front door, peering into the lock system. A simple five prick lock, an easy lock-picking job for someone such as me. His sitting room is standard with a plush couch and more books stacked on each end table. The kitchen is also fairly normal, fruits and bread here and there. Bowls, plates, utensils, and a pristine cleaning area.

"Perfect house wife, aren't ya?" I stifle my laugh, looking at his area of cleaning clothes and soaps. As I'm ready to take my leave, I catch a silver shine out of the corner of my eye. A wooden door with a silver handle in the corner of the kitchen sat, begging for me to open it up. I let out a squeal of excitement, opening the door with a slow hand. I creep down the stairs, coming to a room of stone with soft floors, a desk with quills and a few ink wells, one of those fancy new aged camera, and…

"Shit…" I stand from my crouching stance, marveling at the walls.

The walls, now half naked, are plastered with different pictures of Jean VaLjean. Pictures over the years, I can see the age difference in each photograph. The pictures range from old Camera Obscura photos, ink pressings, and then frozen images from the new age camera. Where his pictures are, you can't see the walls beneath them. I circle the room, coming to the naked walls, where a few pictures still sit. I walk over, and reel back. They're pictures of me, only a few. One of the day we met and another of my backside when I was wearing my new cropped dress sit on the wall around his standing eye level. I suddenly feel the need to get out of here, backing up into the desk with a soft thud. I turn, seeing a few pages of handwritten notes on me. I pick them up, reading through them.

He knew a little too much about me for my liking. He had my age, my height, estimated weight, eye colour, skin colour, and the quarter where I lived. He had notes about how risqué I was, how loose I behave, how I can climb and run. How I use my body for manipulation, how the men around me look at me. He also writes about what he's willing to do in order to keep me safe so he can arrest me in one piece later. It's obvious he and he alone will be the one to apprehend me; he is sure of that.

"Holy shit." I put the papers down and go upstairs, shutting the door as I had found it and walked upstairs. I was done with this for tonight. There were some things on the shelves downstairs that would be worth a pretty penny, but I figure I'll wait until the heist night to grab them. I took a moment to breathe, leaning against his study surrounded by books. I can't fathom why he's this obsessed with catching me red handed. I rub my face, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, feeling uneasy and in over my head. I take my leave, shutting the window and climbing off the buildings the way I came.

I let my legs guide me, my mind in a faraway world of morals and rights. I think it's best if I don't rob him, take Gerard's advice, and avoid him for the rest of my life. Maybe move to the next town over. I wander to the closest store, pick the lock, and grab a bag and a few apples from behind the stand for my friend. I tie the bag shut, attaching it to my hip buckles to keep it secure. The streets home wind, twirling and curling in the moons gaze.

"Stealing again, Rat?" A voice belonging to only one person bellows behind me and I stop completely, hanging my head low. I could correct him, maybe hint at the fact of I know that he knows my real name, maybe that I was just in his house, and carry on some sexy witty banter but I throw in the towel.

"I don't have time for this shit tonight. Go home. We can play this game tomorrow." I look back at him giving him two hands up in the air as surrender before walking again. But his damn long legs caught up to me, his large hand gripping my wrist, forcing me to face him.

"Too late to have a proof of purchase… you must have stolen these." His tiny smirk, those hints of happiness as if he is in complete heaven, enrage me. I bare my teeth, kicking him between the legs as hard as I can. He loses his grip on me, falling to the ground in pain. I kneel, leaning over his face.

"I did, but you'll never catch me." I run as hard as I can until I reach my home, busting through the door and slamming it shut. Gerard ran out of his room, stopping and staring at me with an almost amused look.

"What happened?" Gerard knew what was wrong with me, and while his self-satisfied smirk was less irritating than Jevart's, I still refuse to look at him.

"Javert. I hate this guy. He's creepy, obsessive, and I'm done with him." I put the bag on the counter and put the suit back on the rack, sleeping for a few hours until I need to go to Gerard's work.

When the sun cascades onto my face, I'm not ready for it. I squint and groan, rolling over in my bed to look at the wall. But the need to help my friend overwhelms my need for personal gain. I loosely tie my corset, tugging a blue dress on with my boots and heading out the door with his bag in tow. Again, the hustle and bustle of streets overtakes me, dodging each flamboyant pocket of people all yelling about their own lives.

The store looked more crowded than usual, and I push beyond the people to see why. The door was wide open and a tall man in uniform I recognize as Javert is talking to patrons. I storm through the door, heading directly for the back room where I know Gerard will be. But the tall man who I've had more than enough of in my life time stands in front of me with his brick like chest.

"You cannot go back there." His voice is grave; more so than usual. I chalk it up to his work, turning up my charm.

"Hello Inspector, how do you feel?" I gesture between his legs with a smirk, batting my long eyelashes.

"Sore, I assure you. You have the physical strength to be an inspector. Why not change your life around for the better while you're young, Rat? But now is not the time for banter. There has been a crime, I must get the full report. Did you just show up here?" It's near incredible to watch him speak. One moment, a grin tugs at his lips and the next he is all business, ready to interrogate.

"Yes, I came to bring my friend some lunch. He works a thirteen hour plight today. If you let me give this to him, I'll be gone." I make my voice as genuine and kind as I can manage, with a wide smile that goes without questioning. I go to walk around him, but his hand falls on my bruised shoulder. I wince, looking to the floor, and his hand automatically retracts.

"I did not mean to hurt you, you simply may not go back there. The scene is back there and it is for police eyes only." Javert placed his hand on my other shoulder, moving to reposition in front of me.

"Well then, where is my friend Gerard? I just want to give him these, it won't take a moment to…" His face is stoic, almost pained over something. He's… alarming, unblinking and taking one huge deep breath before moving. He takes me arm gently, sitting me down at the table.

"Putting our… short yet intense rivalry aside, this is my job. Your friend Gerard has been a victim of a violent crime." He sits across from me, legs crossed and hands folded over one another.

"What kind of violent crime?" My voice is calm, only thanks to my years of experience and need to be calm. My heart and stomach are flipping violently, my muscles and bones ready to pop from my skin. Javert, with a shy expression and shaky hands, take my fingers within his own.

"Murder." I push his hands away as soon as the word escaped his lips. I hop over the counter and run into the back.

A pool of blood, still seeping, encircles Gerard's now grey body. I don't care about the blood, falling beside him and wrapping my arms over his body. I weep into his chest, still slightly warm from the life that once was. I feel Javert's hands on me, trying to pull me up but I grip onto Gerard a while longer and pretend he's still alive. Scenes play in my mind of our past laughter and jokes, our outings and our childhood where we played in the fields of flowers and wheat. I can still smell the mud and rain, the gritty dirt and hear the sound of the sun's rays beating down. I lose my grip and Javert's strong arms pull me off the ground.

"Did you catch him?" I explode and start screaming, my emotions pouring onto the floor with my best friend's blood and body.

"An officer ran after him, but he was outrun. The perpetrator got away." He was trying to reason, I knew that, but I couldn't help myself.

"Why didn't you go after him? Everyone in this city says you're the best, you're the one. You're supposed to be the leader, you're supposed to arrest people." I'm screeching and hitting his strong chests with his fists. I run past him and out of the shop, running until I can't anymore and puke on the side of the road. Then I keep running until I can collapse on my bed. I pound the mattress with my arms and legs, letting my emotions out until my throat hurts form screaming and my body exhausted form the physical fit.

Thinking about Javert make's the rage swell up again. But I know I can get revenge, I can get even and surpass him.

Because I will take everything he cares about in this world from his home and destroy it until there is nothing left.

**I'm fairly sure there was indoor plumbing in the 1800s… let's just say Javert is super awesome and rich as fuck? Yeah. Rich as fuck.**

**xoxoPN**


	5. A Long Night

**As accordance to one of my FAVORITE blogs, I'm getting Chapter 5 up. Shit is about to get SERIOUS from here on out! Romance, deceit, self-loathing, and most importantly? SEX. LOADS OF IT. Yeah. Sex. Soon.**

It's been two weeks since Gerard had died and I've done a lot. I haven't left the house to much, aside from tracking Javert's movements, and cleaned Gerard's bedroom out. His clothes were folded in the corner, ready to give to the needy and his mattress clear, made as the morning he left and never came back. I came up with a plan to rob Javert, my prize being his notes on me and my pictures, to show him I can get to him without knowing I'm there.

The night is darkest just before the dawn and that moment is approaching with vigor. My armor fits my body better than ever tonight, bow strappings tight to my back and a quiver full for arrows for safety. I stare in the mirror, looking at my reflection with a numb sense of pride. This is it, my final stance. After this, maybe I'll be done robbing and take up the life Gerard always begged me to have. Gerard was never like me, or the Thieves in general. He was an honest man who happened to be tightly knit with the bad crowd.

But I shake his memory off for tonight, pulling every string of bitterness from my body and focusing it on Javert. The Inspector with the most, as everyone makes him out to be, failed to capture my best friend's killer and I plan on getting revenge no matter the cost, but I forcefully make my blood simmer down. Emotions and serious jobs like this never go well together. I have to think smart, be my usual self, and utilize all the skills I know to get out fast and alive.

As I stand in my open doorway, I'm greeted with rain and a bellowing thunder in the distance. A cold rain that could quickly turn into illness if I didn't work fast. I take it as a sign from Gerard, maybe his final act to try and stop me. But I blow a kiss into the sky, just in case he can see, to let him know this must be done… for him. I take a deep breath, the smell of dirt and freedom lacing into my nose.

"It's time."

I take my leave, running hard with intent, over the buildings until I'm at the roof of Javert's home. I hang down, peering into the study window and much like the last night I was here, it's empty as anticipated. I sneak in, ready to do my business, slinking my way through his home. I get to the wooden door first, opening it and sliding my way down. Empty, as I had hoped and knew it would be. I take the photos and notes away from him, shoving them in one of my many pockets. I open the drawers which I neglected to open in my last panicked visit.

"Oh shit yes." I sigh dreamily with a smile, being three bags full of loot. I shove them in my pockets, as compensation for my troubles, and shut them gently. I feel a little better than I have the past two weeks, knowing this job was at least paying off, and made a start to move across the room. I reached the foot of the stair case when an unfamiliar sound stirs.

I hear a cough from the kitchen, very close to the ajar wooden door. It was Javert's, no doubt, and I feel bile rise in the back of my throat. This was not good, he was going against the plan, my very well set plan. I tracked him, he never came home this time at night. I push my rage back into the pits of my stomach, feeling caught in a trap I'll never make it out of. He's ruining my nineteen year-long streak of luck.

His footsteps draw closer and it's so hard not to pull my bow out. But no blood will be spilt tonight if I can help it. I ran a few stairs up, using the banister to hike myself onto the ceiling. With shaking arms and legs, I hold myself up, back flat against the ceiling. I tuck my lips under my teeth, hardly breathing, watching him descend the stairs slowly, removing his trench coat. With every second my arms grow wary of themselves, shaking and buckling under the intense pressure. I heard his feet touch the ground with a soft noise and I let a silent breath out, slowly wiggling myself back down to the stairs.

'_Don't fall, Marie. Don't you fall now…' _I keep my arms locked, removing my feet from the wall and slowly lowering myself down. I feel safe now, I can out without any problems. My feet are just a moment from touching the stairs before I hear Javert's discontent voice.

"Marie… we'll you've been busy." His footsteps became rushed, back to the stair case. There's no time to get back onto the ceiling, so I drop and run up the stairs. I hear him shout my name and something else beyond my pounding ears and I know deep in my heart there's a chance I'll need to sink an arrow in his chest. I bolt up the stairs by twos, and although I didn't hear him behind me now, I keep running for the study and out the open window. I climb my way up, running full tilt and jumping onto the roof beside his home, nearly slipping in the rain. I hear him running on the sidewalk, which made the pressure to make it out of his sight even more.

I jump down on the dumpster and roll onto the street, jumping up and heading into a sprint within a second. I can't look back, but I hear him just a few steps behind me. My heart is pounding, my ears pumping, I feel so constricted in breathe already and I haven't even been running that long. My eyes fill with tears I have not shed in a long time and I'm pumping my arms so hard I feel like they're going to dislocate from me. But I keep running, the soft echoes of his footsteps behind me my soul motivation.

"Stop, thief!" He calls, making me pump my legs harder than I think I've ever done so before. I don't know how long we've been running for, not too long, but my legs burn with a fire I can't explain and my lungs ache when I take I any air. I start gauging my options. I could stop and fight him, I could jump onto the closest building and kill him with a single arrow, I could keep running until he passes out. Turning myself in was just a faded idea in the back of my mind, the final resort if everything else goes bust.

So I keep running, we're only a block or two away from my home, and that's when the panic sets in. I have no plan, no idea. My breathing is even more elevated by the time we near the ally way to my home, a sudden feeling to puke overcoming me. I'm about ready to give it all up when I hear a heavy thud behind me. I look back for a second, no longer seeing Javert following me, but a hump on the ground. I stop and walk over to him, hardly able to get a full breath in. I kick his hands, seeing if he had a weapon to hurt me with, but nothing lie there. I turn him onto his back, a bloody gash on his forehead that would heal without a scar if I dressed it now.

I can't examine him further, crawling to the side of the road and vomiting from the pressure of the running. I scoop up water from a puddle to my left, rinsing my mouth and spitting violently. I stand, walking away from Javert's bleeding form. Yet, something within me halts… I can't seem to bring myself to go all the way home without looking back. I turn and walk back falling back to my knees and using my sleeve to wipe away the blood. I feel his cheeks; temperature elevated just enough to be noticed. I stand, looking around the area for prying eyes or maybe a lucky break to get someone else to help him…

"Shit." I sneer, hooking his limp body in my arms as I strain to get him into my house. I fall to my knees and his weight nearly crushes my arms. I can practically hear my muscles groan with stress and pain, crawling over his big form to build a fire. It starts to roar, nice and warm against my chilled, exposed skin. I look back to Javert, feeling his uniform. I press lightly, water seeping from the dark blue fabric and his brown hair curled and straggly.

I run and grab the alcohol and bandages, as well as the entire medical box I own, cleaning and using adhesive tape to pin the shallow wound back together, and tape a bandage over that. His face, if anything, is hotter than it was outside and I really doubt it's from the fire. I know I can't leave him in his uniform either, or his sickness will just get worse, so I start unbuttoning and try not to think about it. I peal his coat and white shirt from him, setting them close to the fire. I unlace his boots and pull down his pants without looking as much as I can. All his clothes now set close to the fire, I take a towel of pat him dry before putting both my own and Gerard's old blankets over him. I go through my box of medical supplies, finding a full bottle of medicine for him.

"Inspector…" I pat his chest, trying to at least get him conscious. He groans and rolls away from me. I pull him back, shaking him slightly. I call his name, rubbing my warm hand against his chilled throat.

"Wha…" His eyes hardly opened, I don't even think he recognized me because he greeted me with a smile far to genuine to be him.

"Are you feeling sick to your stomach at all? Dizzy?" He shook his head negative, eyes shutting once more. I sigh, reverting back to shaking him softly.

"No, no, wake up just for another moment. You need to take this." I hold a spoon with the thick red liquid in it in front of him, lifting his head and pushing it into his mouth. Javert swallows, rolls over, and falls back asleep.

I stand with shallow breaths and sore muscles; I can already imagine how I will feel in the morning. I peal the wet armor and boots from my skin, moving the mannequin close to the fire for an extra speedy dry job. My flesh, although cool, most of it remained dry due to the waterproof suit. My hair, on the other hand, was dripping wet and soon to be matted. I grabbed a brush and used my chair's plush cushion to make a makeshift post beside the fire. I take the black ribbon and place it on his clothing, brushing my brown hair out slowly while keeping a close eye on his form.

I knew an early retirement was far too good to be true. It's going to be a long night.

**Alright, I'm excited, we're almost at the peak of excitement :D**

**xoxoPN**


	6. Yes, Mara, You Want a Deal

**My cat chewed my laptop charger and now it doesn't work. So, I lost the entire chapter I was about to post. Anyway, I didn't want to make people wait any longer so I'm just re-writing it.**

"Shit. Inspector, you're going to die on my and then we're going to have a real problem." I sneer at the sleeping man, placing my lips to his forehead to see if he had gotten any better through the night.

His fever was climbing to great heights and I fell myself panic. In the wee hours of the morning, I felt it lurch and start screeching up the tracks but thought nothing of it because it was slow. I instantly regret my neglect, grabbing a cool cloth and a glass of water for when he awoke… and I was dreading that moment. How am I supposed to keep him here? He'd die if we left my house in this state and he'd go to the police and tell them where I lived. I'm going to lose either way.

"Come on damn it, go down." I place the cloth on his forehead, killing the fire with a small pot of rain water collected from last night.

"Gr-uhm… hmmmm…" The noises that chime from his throat are soft, and almost damn endearing, if you ask me. I sit on the edge of the couch, taking his hot sweating face into my hands.

"Inspector," I asked softly ", Inspector Javert?" He grimaces at me, eyes slowly opening. His grey crystal pools were bloodshot and heavy. I gasp… he looks horrendous… I almost regret waking him up.

"This… isn't my home." He grabs my arm, a fearful look on his face. I suddenly realize how bad he's taking the fever. It was stripping him of his exterior and I really feel no need to get close to this man.

"No, this is mine. I'm the thief you were chasing last night." I wave a hand in front of his face, only to have his own large yet pale hand grab my wrist. I wince… at least some of his strength is sticking.

"You stole my… my pictures of that man and you. Why'd you do that?" His speech slurs and I force a sip of water down his throat.

"Because it's my job… and it's creepy to have pictures of me." I speak point blank, figuring he would forget this if he fell asleep again.

"But you're a criminal, I need reference… stole my pay too." His face turns into a pout and I reel back. I make an odd face that he seems to find hilarious, chuckling low and deep while giving a soft point at me.

"You need to listen to me, Inspector," I sit him up, forcing his eyes on me ", you're very sick. I have the medicine and training to treat you, but you need to stay here. You can't leave until you're better. Do you understand?"

"What am I supposed to do? Let you go after I'm better? I'm leaving to go tell them right now." I can tell, he was trying to move and good on him for it, but his legs fail him. He outwardly cried, finding himself too weak to move anywhere outside of an inch of the couch.

"I know, that's why I'm making you a promise." He's fully awake now, regarding me with hot, teary, sick eyes. With his nose fully stuffed, he's stuck breathing out his mouth loudly, wheezing for air. My stone heart nearly breaks at his state, handing him a tissue for his eyes, now leaking a tear not from sadness, but stuffed sinuses.

"What's that, thief?" He wipes under his eyes before bunching the tissue in his hand.

"Follow all my rules, stay in bed, get one hundred percent better? I'll tell you all my crimes, let you take me in, and serve my years without complaint and constant supervision, guards chosen by yourself or even by your own self."

I know exactly what I'm offering and I'm ready to give it. Nineteen years, seeing all my loved ones and friends get arrested for a lose end or a set up. Watching friends die for robbing at the wrong time… watching innocent people like Gerard die because they're involved with people like us. It's an old song and dance we play. Javert, however, does not see what I'm offering as real.

He sneers at me, grabbing my shoulders, and lightly shakes me.

"You must think I'm mad." She smirks at me, but I shake my head, placing a hand on his chest.

"You shouldn't move, Monsieur L'Inspecteur. Listen to me," I sit him back and take his face once more ", I will be looking after you. I have no wish to kill you, I have no need, a thief as good as I has no blood on their hands. To be frank, you following me and having papers on me simply mean you are doing your job. I'll be around you all the time, you'll know if I'm up to something." He seems to frown at my words.

"I've done my duty, nothing more…," His eyes grow heavier than I think possible ", someone once said that to me before. I… okay, Thief. I will let you take care of me." He speaks as if it is a privilege to do so. I'm simply happy he's letting me care for him in the first place. He'd surely die if he hadn't.

I walk to the kitchen, feeling his eyes on me, grabbing a bottle of orange liquid from my box of medication; stolen off a young little scamp named Jols or Joly or something or other. I sit, pouring a healthy spoonful.

"It's just going to kill the sickness in your body." I hold it up and he shakes his head.

"Non, I'm not taking that. It tastes awful." He glares between me and the medicine.

"You won't take it? It'll make you better…" I can't believe it. The big bad Inspector Javert afraid of a spoonful of medicine. He makes a sour face, shaking his head, and hands for good measure.

"Are you not a man?" I scoff, rolling my eyes. Before I could even have the capacity to feel shock, the medicine was off the spoon and in his mouth. He swallowed and retched, still shaking his head, taking the water and downing the glass. I grabbed the glass and medicine bottle, going back to the kitchen. I return with another glass of water, sitting with him once more.

"Now, three of those a day for seven to fourteen days. You'll be good as new."

**Short, butt load of dialogue, sorry. Don't kill me.**

**xoxoPN**


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